


The Long Dark Winter

by Sarah531



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah531/pseuds/Sarah531
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rather dark tale from Arendelle. Based roughly on the idea that Prince Hans, had he succeeded in manipulating and murdering his way to the throne, might have actually made a fairly good king (by nineteenth-century standards) once he’d got there. Which somehow just makes him even more unnerving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Dark Winter

My family had been farmers in Arendelle for three generations. My father had been personally commended by the King for his work, as had his father before him. When the winter came, it hit us hard.

My father and my brothers did everything they could. But they had lived all these years according to the rules of a particular, predictable climate: they and their cattle and their crops were no match for blizzards of snow that swept down from the mountains unexpectedly, or icicles that grew from the ground like trees. Two days passed and our farmhouse began to crumble and erode under the weight of snow and ice; three days passed and I heard the moans of dying beasts outside; four days passed and I forgot the sight of the colour green.

I was eight, the youngest child, I knew we were in danger but I did not know the cause. Other farmers, friends of my father, struggled through the snow to meet us. They were carrying weapons, and they talked about going to find the Queen. We had only one candle a day now to illuminate the house, and the men’s faces flickered in the orange light.

"We cannot let a witch sit on the throne," one of the older men said. "Not that she sits any longer. She has doomed us and abandoned us."

My father looked out of the window, at the endless snow. “Well. Nature will punish or recompense us all,” he said neutrally.

The men left. I think some of them might have gone up the mountain, looking for the Queen, but I don’t know how many came back down. I had five brothers, and they each sought to protect me; if anyone I knew did die, I didn’t hear about it. Yet I overheard whispered conversations between my father and my mother: the poor are beginning to starve, they said, the elderly are starting to sicken.

Our livestock was dead, our food was running out. My father owned a sled that was old and battered but looking increasingly like our last hope. We rode it to the city. On the way there my eldest brother saw a bird and shot it down. This, and the small amount of food we had with us, had to sustain all eight of us for the two-day journey.

Many people from all over the kingdom - many frozen, starving people- had gathered in the city. There were many children, including some clad only in rags. Every kingdom has an underclass; rags go hand-in-hand with riches. But I must have stood out somehow, because suddenly my arm was clasped, I was gently pulled from where I stood, and someone placed a bowl of warm soup in my hands.

This was how I met King Hans of Arendelle, mere days before he _was_ King Hans of Arendelle.

"Please take your children to the palace," he said. "The doors are open. The fires are lit."

That was how I ended up sleeping in the room of Princess Anna, that poor soul, along with twenty-five others. The room wasn’t as opulent as I had expected, and even with the fires blazing everything still felt cold.

The palace stables weren’t as well-heated as the palace itself, and by the morning fourteen horses were dead. It was around this time that even the hardiest folk were feeling their despair turn to rage. As the day dragged on, things only got worse, for the princess had gone to seek the queen as soon as the snow had started, but apparently only her horse had returned, “and for days, perhaps,” said one of my brothers, “her body’s just been lying in the snow.” We had no idea what events were actually taking place. That was soon to change.

As night fell rumours began to spread. That the Queen had struck the princess with her magic and caused her to freeze to death, but that the ailing girl had managed to say her wedding vows before she died. That the Queen was locked in the dungeon charged with treason and murder. And that Prince Hans, married and widowered within a matter of hours, was now the rightful King. Snow still covered the ground as we made our way uncertainly outside.

You have to understand that even with so many of us having lost all we had, we were not a bloodthirsty people. In the hours that followed, there was anger and there was bitter frustration, but few people actively calling for the Queen’s head. After all, she was only a young woman, and we had loved her parents dearly. Yet when the new King had her dragged out in chains, we all watched. We all craned to get a good view.

They had said that her powers were so magnificent that she could create anything, including the finest clothes, out of pure ice. But she was wearing only black when we saw her last.

"Men of Arendelle," said the King. He didn’t say _women_ , nor did he say _people_. “Your Queen betrayed you and abandoned you and continued to practise magic even though she knew its dangers. She struck my wife with a curse that froze her into a statue of ice.” At this, the Queen let out  a sob that I hope everybody that day heard. “Do you want this _witch_ ruling over you?”

A few people called ‘No’ and that was enough. King Hans drew his sword. Here is the thing: the legends of Queen Elsa’s powers grew and grew over the years- they expanded to inform us that she could create sentient life, make whole armies spring up from the snow- but she did _nothing_ with these powers to save herself. I think she could have turned her executioner’s insides to ice, had she wished to. But she didn’t. She just bowed her head.

*

Arendelle thawed, but very slowly. The king and his advisors began co-ordinating relief efforts. Homes were rebuilt and crops resown. I remember little of that time, except that on our way back to our farm, we found a puddle in the middle of the road in which a pile of twigs and a carrot floated. Food was still scarce. Me and the youngest of my brothers shared it amongst ourselves.

I grew to womanhood. My older brothers married, the farm grew larger, we prospered. “We have the King to thank,” my mother said more than once. So when we heard that he was looking for servant girls to serve in the palace, I was sent. I was approved of- I had manners and poise- and I took up residence in Princess Anna’s old room, now refitted as servant’s quarters.

I wouldn’t have chosen that room. There were ghosts there.

I did not see the King often. He was eleven years older than me, and he took a delight in his responsibilities that I did not think was possible of any ruler. Yet when I did see him in passing, he smiled at me- at only me- and my insides turned to slush while the other girls glared jealously.

"You are very pretty, you see," said Gerda, the head housekeeper, to me. I knew I was pretty. Pretty girls always do. "And you have red hair. Like his wife."

Like his wife of less than an hour! And yet people were saying, both in the corridors and in the kingdom, it was time for him to take a new wife. I saw princesses both major and minor visit the castle, but none stayed.

"They are too strong-willed for him," said Gerda. I didn’t consider the implications of that.

As I turned eighteen, I saw the King watching me approvingly. He saw me in the upstairs gallery two days after my birthday, and dismissed the other servants with a wave of his hand.

"I have a gift for you," he said.

The gift was a dress, the finest I’d ever seen, blue and gold and silver. My family were not poor, but owning such a dress would make them staggeringly rich.

"I can’t accept this," I said.

"It belonged to my wife. She would want you to have it." He had known his wife for only _days_ , how would he know? “Please take it.”

"I won’t have an opportunity to wear it."

"You will."

Anyone with a rudimentary knowledge of fairytales would have seen where this was going. There was going to be a ball. I was asked to attend. I was the only servant who would be there not serving.

"It’s just because she looks like the princess," I heard the other girls say. "Except _uglier_ ,” I heard from the jealous ones.

I dressed up in the beautiful dress and went to the ball and waited for something to happen. The King greeted his guests, made speeches, raised a glass- and then came to me.

"Why are you hiding in the corner like that?"

"Because I’m a serving-girl. Woman. I don’t belong here."

He just smiled. “But you’re by far the most beautiful.”

I wondered why he wanted a farmer’s daughter when he could have any princess in the land. But: fairytales. They draw us in.

"That’s a very high compliment, coming from the King," I said.

"Please, call me Hans. And I know your last name, but I don’t know your first. What is it?"

"Crystal."

"Ah, that’s beautiful." He smiled widely. "Like ice."

*

Princess Anna had known Hans only a few hours before he asked her to marry him. I got five weeks. Five weeks exactly. But I was thrilled. Who wouldn’t be? My parents came to the castle weeping happy tears. Their daughter, a _queen_!

The question of true love was never raised.

For the wedding I wore white, he wore blue. He wore his ceremonial sword, too, and for just one instant I remembered that that was the sword he’d used to behead a woman the same age as me. But the thought soon passed.

As did time.

I don’t know if I properly loved him. I don’t even know if he properly loved me- I was swept up in the amazement and wonder and beauty of it all. Eighteen isn’t far from childhood, and all children dream of power sometimes. And I had achieved it, I was a queen, and the people loved me. “That,” my husband told me, “is the main function of a queen.” So I attended parties, and visited orphanages, and entertained royalty of neighbouring nations. I proved to be good at it, and I got better and better and better as the years went by.

"Why, after spending time with you," said one duchess, "one could almost forget you were raised on a farm among pigs." I just smiled politely, and said nothing. Queens did not raise their voices, queens did not anger. Queens ended up like Elsa if they did. This was a fact I knew as certainly as I knew the sky was blue.

I grew too big for the beautiful dress and sent it to one of my nieces. She was thrilled. She too hoped to marry into royalty. This was how my life was, for five years…

Until I entered a room at the wrong time. That was it. That was all it took. Had I not, I’m sure my life would have been very different.

I’m sure my husband had asked not to be disturbed, but the message hadn’t reached me. The room was the upper art gallery: the door I chose was the one at the opposite end from where my husband was sitting, talking with the Duke of Weselton. They hadn’t heard or seen me, but they were talking about me.

"…a real find," the Duke was saying. He was an old man, hunched over his chair, drinking wine. "The perfect figurehead. The people love her, and of course her looking so much like their lost princess helps."

"I know," said my husband. "She’s perfect." I still don’t know in what sense he meant it. But there was no real affection in his voice at all. "I’m sure the people appreciate a queen who’s a little less…cold."

The Duke giggled. “And maybe soon they’ll have a new prince or princess! Take their minds off the old one. Where is dear Anna now, anyway?”

"Oh, they forgot about her," said my husband, lightly. "Almost as much as me. The servants moved her body to the dungeon. I mean, there was no point burying her."

I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart.

"And," said the Duke, "there’s no chance of the…" He twirled his hands around. "The curse on her being broken?"

"If that mad half-troll man out in the wilderness wants to come back and try and kiss an ice sculpture, he’s welcome. But I don’t think he’ll be back."

The Duke nodded thoughtfully.

"She’s dead," my husband said firmly. "Not buried, but dead. She was a necessary sacrifice." I stayed by the door, my blood turned to ice, frozen in place. "Maybe she’d think it was worth it. Arendelle is better than it’s ever been. No threats from within, and very few threats from without."

"Ah yes," said the Duke. "About that."

My husband downed his wine and smiled. “There’s rumour of a kingdom across the sea,” he said, “where the queen has healing powers. Or at the very least, she once had them. And she married a _commoner_ and made him King, and her kingdom is very open and very undefended…”

"What have they got to offer us?"

"Well, I don’t know about you," my husband said, the smile spreading even wider, "but I want to find out where all this witchcraft and magic and curses are coming from, and learn how to use them."

"Sire," the Duke said hesitantly, "the trolls might have taught you, if you hadn’t driven them out…"

“ _Horrible_ creatures!” my husband suddenly shouted with a viciousness I’d never heard from him. “They told me I had no right to the throne.” He hurled his wine-glass to the ground, where it smashed, and he stamped on it.

"Did they say who did?" the Duke asked, very cowed.

"Anna! Stupid, naive, trusting, _dead_ little Anna! They told me one day she would rise again and take her kingdom back."

How could I have admired, have maybe loved this man? He was raving. And still I was silent.

"They said she would kill me," spat Hans, "avenge her sister, and take back the throne."

"Well-"

"I should have killed them all!"

"Sire," said the Duke, regaining his composure, "Forgive me, this is new and frightening information- have you heard the legend of Sleeping Beauty?"

"Of course I have."

"Well, sire…I would destroy what’s left of your former wife. Just in case. And find that man who loved her and kill him. Just in case," he added again lamely.

My husband stared out of the window. I was afraid he would see my reflection, so I stayed very, very still.

"I’ll have to do it carefully," he said. "If the trolls ever return they could ruin everything. And killing someone who’s commited no crime is always hard. To explain away, I mean. Maybe I should wait til Crystal is pregnant, to provide a distraction.."

He was no longer looking at the window. I turned and ran. A past life as a serving-girl prepares you well for moving invisibly. When I reached the main staircase I slowed, and I thought. My heart was unfrozen now: it was beating frantically away. Strangely, my predominant thought was, _I must not let my niece marry into royalty_.

I turned, and I went to the entrance of the dungeons. It was always guarded by two men, regardless of who was in there. They looked at me nervously.

"Your Majesty, you can’t wish to go down in the dungeons," one tried hopefully.

"I am the Queen," I snapped. "I will go wherever I please." They let me through.

The dungeons were small, and in the second cell was the frozen statue that Princess Anna had become in her last moments. She looked betrayed, and hurt, but to my eyes at least she looked terribly angry.

"Hello, Anna," I said to her. "The King thinks you a foolish stupid little child." I looked at her closely. The ice she was made of was like no ice I’d ever seen. It looked like no fire could melt it. "I am a foolish stupid little child too. But no longer."

I took her arm. Perhaps it was my imagination, but the dead ice seemed to pulse a little.

"Men!" I called. The two guards came rushing down to me, pure terror on their faces, and perhaps they were right to feel it. "Take this woman to her bedroom on the upper floor."

"But-" began one.

"Did you not hear me? Are you not sworn to obey my commands? Take her. I will walk with you."

They took her.

"The reign of the King is over," I said. "Long live the Queen."


End file.
